Risk of extinction for hairless men?A provocative title. This new chapter of Fashion Fil Rouge is different from the others. We don’t talk about fashion or history of fashion. But the focus is on men’s flair for beard and mustache. An inclination that followed, through centuries, higs and lows, but now lives, undeniably, a second youth. Beard and mustache have always been an expression of masculinity, a “value” that includes a lot of others: thew, attractiveness, courage, authority, power, wisdom. In ancient times beard and mustache on men’s faces were the result of precise social rules. In classical Athens the growth of the first downy hairs was the turning point of homoerotic relations, considered essential in every man’s education. As soon as he had a trace of mustache, the young man ceased to be a “eromenos”, the beloved adolescent, protected and educated on life by the adult male, or “erastès”. More down to earth, involved in conquering territory after territory, the Romans preferred hairless faces. They allowed themselves just a short and trim beard. And, on the whole, they connected beards to wisemans, philosophers, intellectuals. The link between beard and wisdom, is a leitmotif that goes through every culture’s history: from Socrates to Confucius, from the Church Fathers to Karl Marx, from Leonardo da Vinci to Michelangelo, from Lev Tolstoj to Ho Chi Minh. Even if sometimes there’s a blurred line between wisdom and zealotry. Just think about Rasputin, for example. We’ve already talked about the rejection of Romans for unkempt beards. But then came the Barbarians. And from then to the Enlightenment age it had been a profusion of hair. You weren’t a man if you hadn’t your face framed by beard and mustache. This is for kings and emperors – Charlemagne, Frederick Barbarossa (Redbeard), Ivan the Terrible, Henry VIII -, for warriors and explorers – the english pirates and spanish conquistadores -, for the prig aristocracy and bourgeoisie – portrayed by the Flemish painters of the XVII century. After the Enlightenment, when the greatest personalities chose to be hairless – from Frederick the Great to the Sun King, from Voltaire to Kant – as a representation of the new man, the Restoration brought back to fashion at least the mustache. From the handlebar mustache of kings and rulers – Francis Joseph I, Napoleon III, Vittorio Emanuele II, Bismarck – to the soberer ones of magnates and industrialists, up to the well-finished ones of the dandys portrayed by John Singer Sargent or Giovanni Boldini. The absolute geniuses – we’re talking about Giuseppe Verdi or Claude Monet – still can have flowing beards. Present: the First World War restores the advantages of a hairless face. Who had to survive in foxholes’ for five years between mud and lice couldn’t worry about beard and mustache. And the 20th Century remains hairless fot its main part. The Hollywood stars that opt for mustache – Clark Gable or William Powell – add a touch of cunning to their charm. There’s a changing of idea with the events of the 1968, as a disdain of the bourgeoisie’s order. Those beards were Fidel Castro’s and Che Guevara’s. The mustache refer to the western epic of Wyatt Earp. They also mean transgression, follow through the homosexual emancipation, especially in its popular expressions, as the Village People teach. And now? No fear for hairless men. They aren’t in risk of extinction. But today beards and mustache fill our streets with “not so ordinary guys”. The most charming man with beard and mustache of the entire history, in the opinion of the writer, is Thor Heyerdahl, the norwegian anthropologist-biologist-explorer that in 1947 scoured the Pacific with Kon Tiki, “The Sun’s son”, his rudimentary boat made to demonstrate the theory stating that South-American people had colonized Polynesia in the pre-Columbian era. Tall, thin, solemn like an indian brahman, flawless like Lord Mountbatten, self-confident and not affected at all in his beauty (in this sense Scandinavians are little well-versed in artificiality), brave like a Viking, acute and profound like an intellectual of the Alexandria academy. Giorgio Re

Alessandro Calascibetta has been active in fashion since the late 80s. He started off his career at L'Uomo Vogue, after that with Mondo Uomo. Afterward, he became Fashion Director at Harper's Bazaar Uomo, and in 2000 founded Uomo which he directed until 2003. Following that, he started collaborating with Rizzoli. Since january 2015 he is the Editor in Chief of Style Magazine, and still remains as Man Fashion Director for Io Donna and Sette.